e gave him and then pondered. Olsen had, no
doubt, forged the order and Kit imagined he would have some trouble to
get payment for the goods. The manufacturers might be persuaded to take
back the rest of the cargo at something less than its proper price, but
Kit thought the value of the munitions supplied to Alvarez would be lost.
The new president would certainly try to disown the debt. Kit, however,
had known that Adam's staunchness might cost him much, and something
might, perhaps, be saved. He had had enough of the country, and as soon
as he could straighten out the tangle in which the revolution had
involved Adam's business he was going back to Ashness.

"Heave your anchor when you're ready," he said to Mayne. "We'll call at
Havana and then steam for New Orleans."

At high-water he stood on the bridge, watching the mangroves fade into
the mist. Ahead, the sun was rising out of a smooth sea, the air was
fresh, and Kit's heart was lighter. He had done with plots and intrigue
and was going back to Ashness and the quiet hills. At the same time, he
felt a tender melancholy as he thought about the little church at Salinas
and the marble cross in the sandy yard. Then he lifted his head and the
melancholy vanished as he looked across the sparkling water. The clang of
engines rose and fell with a measured beat and there was a noisy
splashing at the bows. Bright streaks of foam eddied about the _Rio
Negro's_ side, and a long smoke cloud trailed astern as she steamed to
the North.

PART III--KIT'S RETURN

CHAPTER I

KIT'S WELCOME

Kit was comfortably tired when he sat down by the beck at the head of the
dale. He had been at Ashness for a week, and finding much to be done had
occupied himself with characteristic energy. It was a relief to feel that
the heat of the tropics had not relaxed his muscles as much as he had
thought, and that the languidness he had sometimes fought against was
vanishing before the bracing winds that swept his native hills. The ache
in his arms had come from using the draining spade and his knees were
stiff after a long walk through the heather to examine the Herdwick
sheep. His vigor was coming back and he was conscious of a keen but
tranquil satisfaction with the quiet dale.

Filling his pipe lazily, he looked about. The sun was near the summit of
the fells and the long slopes were turning gray in the shadow. The yellow
light touched the other side of the valley, and the narrow